


All Structures Are Unstable

by xrollerqueenx



Series: All Structures Are Unstable [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Freeform, Homelessness, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, benarmie, runaways - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 08:13:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11505294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xrollerqueenx/pseuds/xrollerqueenx
Summary: Part One of All Structures Are Unstable





	All Structures Are Unstable

The substructure of the bridge provided shade from the harsh mid-day sun.

At night though, it was cold.

Some of the others lit fires inside of trash cans to warm their hands, stand together, and to perhaps not feel so alone.

Ben didn’t like fires. Not with the way his Grandfather had died.

He moved deeper into his coat and the threadbare blanket he had found in the good-will bin before morning pick up. 

Maybe tomorrow he will look again, see if someone else had dropped off an old blanket or a sweatshirt that wasn’t too small for his large frame.

He was getting thinner though. Food not so easy to come by these days. 

Maybe that’s why he was so cold at night. Less meat on his bones.

He heard a scuffle from over by the cross girders. A “hey get outta here!” and the sound of footsteps getting closer.

He didn’t move a muscle, learning early on that you don’t make eye contact. 

The steps slowed as they approached him. ‘Walking on eggshells’ Ben thought.

A tall hooded figure moved past him and Ben was careful to just shift his eyes upward.

“Hey!” He grumbled at the figure.

“Hey!” louder when the figure kept walking.

“Fine, fuck you then.” under his breath when the figure had not stopped.

Then he did stop.

“Leave me alone!” the figure shouted. 

His face turned toward the fire. Just enough for Ben to make out dried blood and red hair under the hood.

He could not have been much older than Ben himself.

Ben made a pained face, too many thoughts at once. The figure had not moved.

“Are they giving you a hard time?” Ben nodded in the direction of the fire. “They do that, to the new ones.”

“I’m not new.” The figure answered. “I’m noth- I’m just passing through.”

“To where?”

Nothing.

“I said, to where?”

The figure had not fully turned but Ben heard the whisper. “I don’t know.”

Ben stood slowly, trying not to spook this creature standing in his camp.

“Well don’t go over there.” Ben pointed to the woods. “High school kids get drunk in those woods. They aren’t usually friendly.”

The figure nodded.

“And don’t go down there.” Ben pointed now to the entrance to a storm drain. It’s face covered in graffiti. Some of it at least thirty years old.

“What’s down there?” the figure asked.

Ben took a step closer.

“That’s the Lost City. People only go down there to get high. Or to disappear.”

The figure turned to him then, one eye wide, the other swollen shut and on it’s way to a purpley-black.

He looked so lost.

“Why don’t you stay here?” he gestured to his camp. “ I don’t have much, but you could sleep here and no one will bother you. Then you can go where you are going in the morning.”

“Why?” The figure sneered. His face all sharp angles and anger.

“Why not? You don’t look like you’re in much shape to go anywhere.”

The figure’s shoulders sagged at the statement. 

Ben had the overwhelming urge to hold him.

“How do I know you won’t murder me in my sleep?”

“How do I know you won’t murder me? I guess we just have to trust each other.”

A snort. “Trust.”

“Yep.”

The figure walked toward Ben then. He held out his hand.

“My name is Armie. What’s yours?”

It took a moment for Ben to disentangle his arm from the blanket wrapped around him.

“Ben.”

Armie sat in silence, a good 6 feet from Ben. Then he spoke.

“Thank you for sharing your space with me.”

“You’re welcome.”

Not long after, Armie stared to drift to sleep. The wind blew and his teeth began chattering.

“Are you cold?” Ben asked.

“A little.”

“Here.” Ben shifted and lifted his blanket. “It’s big enough to share.”

Armie looked at him, half skeptical, half terrified.

“I won’t bite.” Ben grinned. “You’re too skinny to eat anyway.”

“Not funny.” Armie stated. He moved closer.

“I thought it was funny.”

Armie settled against Ben’s side.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” He asked.

Ben hummed. “Let’s just say, I’ve been where you are.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“I don’t have to.”

Armie slept.

Ben watched him sleep, illuminated by the light of the fire. Armie’s face looked peaceful now. His freckles standing out in the orange glow. In another life they may have been classmates. Or friends. Maybe college roommates. Who fought, then fell in love. 

Ben was sad for Armie. And Ben was sad for Ben. For the lives they didn’t get to live. For the happiness that other people got to have but eluded them somehow.


End file.
